finnegan

The price of every beginning is an end. The price of living is dying. The price of meeting someone for the first time is that someday you will meet them for the last time. Every time the sun rises it sets. It is so basic to the nature of things that each of us born with the knowledge that for all the points of the compass there is only one direction and time is its measure. I cannot name it tragedy, rather call it completion. The final brushstroke of the painting, and oh what a masterpiece of broad strokes you left on your canvas my friend. A fierce and passionate heart, a lyrical and gentle soul, and a wicked wicked streak are your legacy and your challenge to all that come after. Rest well old friend the last rounds on me.